


Hannibal Meets A Vampire

by AsrielScarlet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hannibal and Bedelia - Freeform, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Randomness, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsrielScarlet/pseuds/AsrielScarlet
Summary: So, Halloween is coming up, and I'm getting into the spirit of creepiness and murder! (Wait what?) Anyways, saw this writing prompt: Your favorite TV character meets a vampire. What do they do? And this terrible, terrible (seriously it's bad) drawl of idiocy came out.
I literally wrote this in an hour. And I haven't had it beta tested. Be prepared for your eyes to be burned! Bwahaha!!! 
In this fanfic, Bedelia and Hannibal's therapy session is interrupted by a strange girl... One who Bedelia knows, and has met... 20 years ago. (I really had no purpose for writing... If you guys like it, I'll continue though... XD)





	

“And how did that make you feel?” 

Turquoise eyes fixed on Bedelia Du Maurier’s colleague and patient, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, who was currently seated across from her on a white chair, elegantly poised with legs crossed and arms folded. He looked like a Greek statue in some ways; his back straight, his long legs bent at a calculated angle, his head tilted to the side with a small smile. 

“It makes me feel as if I were Sisyphus… Forever attempting to roll a large boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down.” 

The two were currently discussing Hannibal’s patient, Franklyn. Franklyn was a slightly overweight, mid 40 year old depression sufferer. He had been to many psychiatrists before, and all had given him referrals. Hannibal now knew why. The man was incapable of making any progress in his treatment. He claimed that he wanted to “get better” but was perfectly content staying where he was. Afraid of stepping out of his comfort zone too far. Hannibal was growing frustrated. He was a well known psychiatrist and had dealt with many difficult patients in his days. Most of them made slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Franklyn was a conundrum that he had yet to solve. 

Hannibal had expressed his conflicted feelings over his patient a few times before this, always careful not to breach patient-doctor confidentiality. Bedelia was sharp. She knew that Hannibal’s lack of getting through to his patient was frustrating him. She had met the man a long time ago, having moved from Florence, Italy to the United States. He had drawn her in with his meticulous dress, his calculated movements and his air of unyielding danger. Both of them were well known in the psychiatry world, and as such, were destined to meet some day or another. 

Bedelia was equally cautious around him as she was curious. She knew that he was dangerous. She had known that from the first time she set eyes on his immaculate form during the intermission of an Opera they were both at. Her suspicions were confirmed when a former patient of his, now transferred over to Bedelia’s care had attacked her, almost killed her, and forced her to defend herself by murdering him. That was the final act that made her quit psychiatry. She had wanted to run away from the man and the dangerous feline air that surrounded him, but he had made it difficult. He continued to express his desire to see her, to continue his own sessions with her. In the end, her curiosity overtook her fear and she had stayed where she was. Where she would likely always be. 

Her house was grand. Modern styled and built with spiraling pieces of rock and glass. It was on the outskirts of Baltimore, through a forest and near a river. A secluded spot where she now spent her days. Very few people besides Hannibal knew where she lived and she prefered to keep it that way. Having backed out of the psychiatry industry completely, she now wanted to live a simple, elegant life, talking to Hannibal twice a week and relaxing in her spare time. 

The pair were sitting in the large, hexagon shaped acoustic room of the house. All the walls were made of glass, and looked out onto a large, yet shallow river and lush green forest. There was a set of comfy white furniture, a couch, and a fireplace on the left wall. At the moment, the drapes were closed to the windows and the fireplace was lit. It had been nearly 10:00 PM when Hannibal had appeared at her door place, holding an expensive bottle of wine. He told her that he was “looking for an interesting conversation”, and she had let him in, feeling the loneliness of her house like a draft. The storm had started shortly after Hannibal arrived. It was sudden and violent, pouring buckets of rain over the landscape and sending bright flashes of lightning through the sky. It was as if Zeus was angry at the mortal world, sending such a storm. 

Bedelia glanced at the clock. 10:45. She sighed and reached over to the glass table next to her seat. She picked up the glass of red wine and took a sip. Hannibal’s eyes followed her movements with interest, though he didn’t move. 

“Not… Progressing as much as you would like, especially in a subject you have found up until now to be… Rather expectable, is surely frustrating.” She said after a moment. Her lip twitched upwards at this. 

Hannibal had always been picky about his patients. She knew that many cases simply bored him, which is why, after his fame had grown, he had become more choosy about his patients. 

Hannibal let out a sigh and shut his eyes for a fraction of a second. He opened them and, lifting his chin the slightest bit, accepting Bedelia’s statement, said, “You’re correct in that assumption. I find that I grow frustrated at both myself and my patient for this. At the moment, I am thinking about referring him to another psychiatrist.” 

This was expected. Franklyn had been interesting in the beginning, but now was more of a bother to Hannibal. He knew the man wouldn’t be happy about being referred again, especially since he had developed a sort of obsession with the doctor. 

“I am sure you will do what you believe is right, no matter what my input is.” Bedelia said at last. She was looking forward to taking a hot bath after the long day and dreary weather, and was attempting to wrap up their conversation. 

Hannibal knew this, of course, and smiled a charming smile. 

“I’m sure I will.” He paused. “The time has grown late. As I assume you have a busy day tomorrow, it might be time for us to be bidding each other farewell.” 

Bedelia tilted her head in acknowledgment and rose gracefully from her chair. Hannibal followed close behind, straightening out his already immaculate suit as he stood. Their gazes met, and held for a moment. Bedelia was about to say something when the loud ringing of her doorbell cut the silence. It was followed closely by a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder so loud she flinched. The rain outside began to pour down more heavily after this, it hit the roof of her house like small pebbles, creating a heavy downpour sound that drowned out everything else. At first, Bedelia wasn’t sure if the sound was her doorbell, but a second ring closely followed the first. 

Who would come to her house at this hour? Hannibal was already here, and not too many people knew where she lived. A mild sting of panic shot through her. 

Bedelia turned slowly to Hannibal and forced her expression to flatten. 

“... Please excuse me for a moment. I must see to the door.” 

Hannibal nodded, curiosity was sparkling in his eyes. He followed Bedelia to the door of the acoustic room, but waited there as she made her way down the wide, tiled hall to the doorway. He knew full well how isolated Bedelia had become after she quit psychiatry. Someone coming to her door at this time of night, in a storm noless was equally interesting and strange. 

The sound of a door opening cut through the drone of rain hitting the roof, followed by a gasp. The acoustic room was just around the corner from the main entry way of Bedelia’s house, so Hannibal heard it loud and clear. Bedelia’s voice held shock, though it didn’t waver when she spoke. 

“It’s you… But… How…” 

This peaked Hannibal’s curiosity. Few things could unravel the icy calm of his colleague. He stepped out into the hall and peered into the large entrance room. The floor was white tile, with a coat hanger on the wall, and a stand for jackets near the door. A large mat lay before the door for people to wipe their feet on and large pillars surrounded the room and held it up. 

Standing in the doorway was the drenched frame of a very small person. They were clad in an oversized trench coat that was dragging on the ground. A flash of lightning illuminated the room and Hannibal saw hair that reached the figure’s knees. Upon closer inspection, he noted the figure was not wearing shoes, and was shaking badly. Their small arms were wrapped around their waist, trying to preserve heat, the drenched coat dripping water onto the welcome mat. 

A shaky voice came from the trembling form. 

“Miss… Bedelia… Can I come in for a second…” The person broke off with a fit of coughing. Weakly they spoke, “It’s… Kinda cold… Outside… And I… I… Did something bad. I didn’t… Mean… I… I…” 

The small shuddering form’s voice rose in pitch as they spoke, fear prevalent until it reached a squeak. They repeated, “I… Didn’t..” Over and over. Bedelia took a deep breath, having composed herself after the shock and opened the door wider. 

“Come in.” The command was gentle, yet an undercurrent of confusion filled it. 

Hannibal took the liberty of flipping on the lightswitch to the entryway at that moment, and both Bedelia and the shaking bundle of coat jumped in surprise. The soaking figure stepped inside and immediately water began to pool at their feet. Hannibal frowned. The tiles of the entryway were imported from Italy… They were very expensive and he knew Bedelia wouldn’t be happy if they were ruined. 

He didn’t want to leave the scene where so many interesting things were happening, but his fastidious nature overpowered him. 

Calmly he spoke. 

“Bedelia, I’m going to get a towel for our… Guest.” 

She glanced behind her shoulder and nodded slightly, before turning back to the small person.  
Hannibal quickly made his way down the hall and up a large flight of stairs to Bedelia’s bedroom. Having been close with the woman for many years, he knew where to find the stack of spare towels. He returned back down the stairs to hear the two talking. 

Hesitantly, Bedelia questioned, “How… Are you here? After so long…” 

Hannibal noted that Bedelia had apparently known the sodden figure for a while before this moment. He wondered how long. The figure looked young, they couldn’t be more than 20 years old. How had they found Bedelia’s house? And how did Bedelia know them? It was a mystery, and Hannibal’s mind was excited to figure it out. 

A trembling voice replied, “I… I… Ended up here… I was… Busy with other things… But… I got so hungry… And… I didn’t mean to! And it hurts…” Again the voice broke off. 

Rounding the corner, Hannibal saw the figure shivering, they were turned away from Bedelia, who was leaning on a large stone pillar for support. Her face was pale, though her expression was schooled into one of calmness. 

Hannibal glanced down at the tile and saw a large puddle of water had formed. Drops of water were falling off the figure’s hair, which Hannibal realized was an unearthly shade of white. The coat was so long that he couldn’t make out any other features about their unusual guest, it fell around the figure and obscured their body in layers of blackness. 

Bedelia looked over at Hannibal with something akin to thankfulness. She reached over and took one of the plush white towels he was holding and then took a carefully measured step towards the figure who Hannibal could only assume was a girl. 

Quietly, as if talking to a spooked animal she said, “You’re soaking wet. Please, take off your coat and dry yourself off.” 

The girl flinched when she spoke, and had turned to face Bedelia. Her eyes were red. Not brown with a tint of red, crimson. Bright red like blood. Hannibal’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing. 

Who, or what was this creature? 

She seemed to have noticed Hannibal standing there, and jumped, realizing there was another person in the room. 

She raised a shaking finger at him. 

“Umm… Who’s… Who is… That?” 

Bedelia glanced over at Hannibal for a moment before saying, “Hannibal Lecter. A patient and colleague of mine.” 

Red eyes widened.

“Oh… I don’t… Don’t… Want to intrude or anything… You should have told me you were… Busy… I’ll… Go…” The words were said in a shaky voice, the girl’s teeth chattered between them. 

Hannibal was now very interested in the creature before him, and had no intention of letting her disappear back into the storm. Not only that, but his psychiatrist and surgeon experience were screaming at him that this was a mentally unstable girl who may be injured, and was likely suffering from hypothermia. He spoke up, a command clear in his voice as the girl turned again towards the door. 

“Wait. You are in no condition to go anywhere at the moment. You are soaked to the bone, and may be suffering from hypothermia. Take off your coat and dry yourself off.” 

The girl flinched. She reminded Hannibal of a frightened animal, cornered by a predator. Hannibal wondered what kind of fears she had, what kinds of experiences she had undergone, to be so fearful of something as simple as being in another room with a person. He wanted to get into her mind, to understand what she was, to see the splendor of her soul. 

She paused for a moment, debating whether to leave or not when Bedelia confirmed Hannibal’s orders. 

“Hannibal is right. You shouldn’t be going anywhere in your condition. We were just about to be done with our session. You will not be disturbing or intruding on anything.”

A moment’s pause before, “Are you… Sure?” 

Hannibal took a step towards the girl, wanting to assess the state of her mental condition and see her reaction to closer proximity to another person. 

She turned back to Bedelia and Hannibal and flinched. Interesting. Hannibal hadn’t moved from the spot, he held a hand out patiently for her coat. Gazing fixedly at the tile of the floor, she shrugged off the oversized, drenched piece of clothing. Underneath was a simple dress that was drenched… In blood. 

What used to be a pale shade of grey was now almost black with blood. It stained every inch of the cloth and ran slowly down the girl’s legs. Crimson mixed with the water on the floor, turning pink. Bedelia’s eyes widened. 

Hannibal noted that the coat was heavy with rain water. He gently placed it onto the coat rack next to him. 

The dress was in a terrible state. There was a long rip from the bottom of the dress to nearly the waist. Holes and tears littered the bloodstained garment.  
Red eyes glanced at the white fluffy towel Bedelia was holding out. 

Hesitant eyes flashed up to her face before meeting the ground. 

“I… Can’t take that… It’s… White… And I’m all wet and… Blood… And…” 

Hannibal cut her off. 

“I believe the purpose of a towel is to dry wetness. Do not worry about the color, a simple mix of bleach and soap will rinse it out. Please, take it.”

Hannibal was amazed the girl hadn’t collapsed, she was shaking so hard. A small hand reached out and hesitated before taking the towel. She wrapped it around her trembling form and Hannibal nodded in approval. Bedelia glanced at Hannibal, an unspoken conversation passed between them. 

“Follow me. We need to get you warmed up. Hannibal will stay here and dry up the floor.” Bedelia turned elegantly and strode down the hall, giving the girl no time to argue or stammer out an apology. She flashed a look back at Hannibal, who had thrown a towel onto the floor before stumbling after Bedelia. 

Hannibal sopped up the drenched floor before placing the wet towel in a plastic shoe holder basket near the door. He strode down the hall, assuming Bedelia took their guest to her living room. He was correct. By the time he had entered the dimly lit room, the large fireplace on one side of the room was ablaze. The girl was seated on a plush couch, wrapped in the white towel and shivering still. He entered the room without a word, instead choosing to focus on the shivering girl. She was thin, painfully so. He could tell that she was malnourished even though the long sleeved dress covered most of her body. Her hair was shimmering with water droplets and she was curled in on herself, and away from Bedelia who was standing nearby. She was obviously unused to contact with other people, and Hannibal wondered how long she had been alone before arriving at Bedelia’s house. With narrowed eyes, he noticed that red was staining the towel, though it was now faded to a pink color due to the amount of water. She was injured. Bedelia had noticed this as well and looked torn between reaching out to the girl or simply speaking. 

Hannibal’s years as a surgeon took over. 

“Are you injured?” He asked calmly. A flinch. 

“Umm… Not really… No.. I mean… Not bad... Err…” The girl had tilted her head down, long hair obscuring her eyes. Hannibal noted that she had a difficult time speaking to others, and an even more difficult time being close to them. 

“Although I’m sure you know your own body well, I would still like to examine you, in case you have acquired injuries that need immediate treatment.” The accented voice was low and calm, but that didn’t stop scared red eyes to flash to his face. 

“Umm… No. It’s OK. Really… I’m fine.” The stammered reply came. 

“I know that you may believe yourself to be fine, however, I would like to make sure of that. You have no reason to worry. I was a practicing surgeon for nearly 12 years before this.” 

The crimson orbs flashed wider at this statement. If possible, the girl looked more afraid after hearing that then when she had first arrived. 

“You’re… A doctor?” 

“Yes. At this junction though, I do not practice in the physical sciences. Rather, the mind ones.” He replied evenly. 

The girl looked away sharply when he said this and grit her teeth together. She was afraid for a reason Hannibal didn’t know, nor could guess. 

He took a careful step towards the couch, and as expected, the girl flinched again. 

“No… I can’t… I’m OK. I’m fine. I’m OK. I’m OK.” She stammered to herself. As she repeated “OK”, she looked up at Bedelia who had a rather blank, yet pitying expression on her face. 

Bedelia shook her head. 

“I believe it would be a good idea for Hannibal to examine you. It’s either that, or I’ll take you to the hospital.” 

The girl looked horrified. Her breathing increased to the point of hyperventilation as she gazed at Bedelia. 

“No. No. NO. No hospital.” The voice was shaky and split with fast breaths. 

Her small frame was shaking so badly that Hannibal was worried she would faint. He quickly slid next to her on the couch, and placed an arm around her shoulder. 

She jumped back, wide eyes meeting Hannibal’s calm ones. She let out a squeak and tried to scramble backwards but Hannibal increased his grip on her shoulders, holding her in place. 

“Calm down, miss. Breath.” His calm instructions didn’t seem to be getting through, they actually seemed to be making things worse as the girl’s breath level increased to rapid rates. 

Through shallow breaths she said, “I… Am… Calm… No… Let… Let me go… Let go!” The squirming continued but Hannibal stayed where he was. He kept his dark eyes fixed on her face and spoke, knowing Bedelia would do what he asked.  
“My bag, Bedelia. I’m going to administer a mild sedative.” 

Bedelia nodded and spun quickly, making her way to the acoustic room down the hall. 

He glanced down at the girl and said calmly, “Breath. You must calm down. Take a deep breath. I don’t want to have to sedate you, but if you don’t calm down, I must.”

However, when the girl had heard the words “mild sedative” she had burst into movement. She jumped off of the couch, the wet towel sliding to the floor and wrenched herself out of Hannibal’s grip. With the wild fear of an animal about to be slaughtered, she turned and fled towards the door. 

With years of experience and killing on his side, Hannibal was faster. By the time she had made her way around the couch, he was already on the other side. She ducked in an attempt to make it under his arms, but he reached out faster than a striking cobra and wrapped an arm around the girl’s small frame. She was so skinny his arm wrapped all the way around her torso and he grasped his arm on the other side. She let out a shriek and began to struggle frantically. She clawed at his restricting arm with the fury of a caged tiger and thrashed about with an amount of energy Hannibal had to admit was admirable for such a small being. 

Still, it didn’t help. Hannibal stepped backwards until his back met the hard wall, and wrapped his other arm in an iron hard grip around the girl’s flailing ones. She struggled to get out of his grasp, but in her weakened state, it barely made a difference. The struggling continued and Hannibal lowered his mouth to her ear. 

“Stop struggling. It won’t get you anywhere. I apologize about this, but it’s necessary at this point. Please try to calm yourself.” 

Huffs of breath broke the silence and the girl struggled for a moment longer, before stilling in his arms. Her body was as tense as a board and Hannibal knew that if he loosened his grip, she would make another dash for it. Instead of doing this, he gently nudged the back of her knees with a foot and lowered them both slowly to the ground. She let out a feral growl. They ended in a sitting position, the girl’s legs folded under her, Hannibal’s arms still wrapped around her like a straightjacket. 

Bedelia hurried into the room, Hannibal’s bag in her grasp. She took in the scene and frowned.

“Shiki. It’s not our intention to harm you. Trust me.” Bedelia spoke in a low voice, moving slowly towards the pair. 

So, the girl was called Shiki… Hannibal knew the word was Asian. Japanese perhaps? “Shi” was the word for “4” in Japanese. The number 4 was notorious for “death” in Asian countries. Hannibal’s interest rose. 

Shiki looked up at Bedelia, her face softening into one of fright and concern again. Slowly, her breathing slowed to a reasonable pace, and Bedelia gave her a small smile. 

“Right pocket. Yes, that one. There is a vial and a syringe.” Hannibal instructed Bedelia who quickly found the small bottle and syringe. She knew that Hannibal was rather paranoid, and always carried around “basic” (in his mind) medical supplies. She was relieved for once of his strangeness. 

Hannibal shifted his grip, so one arm was free, and the other pinned the girl’s arms to her side. He popped the lid off of the syringe and, while Bedelia held it, filled it with sedative. 

Watching, the girl’s heart rate jumped and started to pound rapidly. Hannibal tightened his grip a fraction, ensuring she wouldn’t escape again. With a practiced calm, he inserted the needle quickly into the girl’s neck, released the plunger, and removed it. Almost instantly, the girl’s tense body relaxed. It went slightly limp in his arms, and he loosened his arm and shifted her onto her back. 

She glared up at him, her eyes shutting before snapping open again with a startling fury. 

“No... “ She muttered. “No…” 

Crimson eyes fluttered shut. 

Hannibal reached down and placed two fingers on the girl’s pale neck. After he felt the steady pulse, he picked the girl up bridal style and carried her back over to the couch. Gently, he placed her on it before turning to Bedelia. 

“You know her.” It was a statement, not a fact. 

There was a pause before Bedelia answered. 

“I do. I met the girl in Florence almost twenty years ago. She… Rescued me from a rather unfortunate position. But… To see her now, so many years later… The same as she was all those years ago…” Bedelia trailed off. Hannibal’s mind was racing. 

Bedelia had met the girl 20 years ago? Impossible… This girl couldn’t physically be more than 18… Physically… Could it be she was somehow mentally older? How would that be possible… 

Bedelia was thinking the same thing, and vocalized her confusion. 

“She was exactly the same, physically as she was back then… There’s no difference. Hannibal, how could that be?” 

For once, Hannibal couldn’t answer. 

“Is it possible that this girl is simply a descendant of the person you met back then? Though, now that I think about it, she knew who you were, so that is unlikely…” Hannibal mused out loud. He glanced down at her, and decided to get to work. 

“Bedelia, tell me, how exactly did you meet this strange girl? Ahh, I will need a spare outfit for her. This dress is hardly fit to be worn as it is.” Bedelia frowned as she looked down at the sleeping girl. 

“I’ll get something.” Was all she said before she turned and strode out of the room. 

Without any distractions, Hannibal turned his full attention to the sleeping form before him. The dress had buttons all down the front, and he swiftly undid them. Underneath, she was wearing a what was white, tank top. Blood had stained the fabric red. Hannibal noted the steady rise and fall of the girl’s chest and gently raised her prone form up, pulling the sleeves of the dress off of her in the process. With this done, the entire top of her body was bare, except for the bloody tank. Hannibal had seen many naked bodies in his time as a surgeon, and even more in his time as a murderer. He had no qualms with them, and as such, cut the two straps of the tank top off with no hesitation. He peeled back the fabric before snipping the rest of it off. Bandages covered her upper chest, wrapping her breasts in tight to her form. 

Her skin was pale as the moon, and blood covered it, but there was no sign of any bruises, cuts, or other injuries. With his right hand, he felt her pulse again. It was beating steady. He furrowed his brow and ran a hand down the girl’s side, fingers pressing into her sides as he felt for broken ribs. There were none. He repeated the process with her other side before lifting both of her lithe arms. Bedelia had entered the room with a large white shirt and pair of silken pj bottoms as Hannibal felt the girl’s bony shoulders for any signs of breaks. Satisfied that there were none, he glanced at Bedelia. 

“She was injured when she entered your house, but now, no such injuries are present on her person.” Bedelia’s eyes narrowed. The question passing between them. Hannibal shook his head and turned back to the girl. He grasped the scissors again and proceeded to snip off the rest of the dress. The girl was wearing a pair of ragged shorts underneath, so worn that they barely passed her thighs. Again, there were no injuries present on her still form. Hannibal was entranced by the strange creature in front of him. He wanted to know everything about her… What she was, who she was, where she came from… 

He looked at Bedelia. 

“Would you mind cleaning her up? I do not think it would be appropriate for me to do it.” 

She nodded coolly and Hannibal stood, walking to an armchair by the fire and gracefully sitting. His suit was covered in blood and water, but he was content at just sitting for the moment. 

Bedelia had gotten a basin of warm water and was rising the blood off the girl’s skin with a small towel. The water was slowly turning red. 

A few minutes of silence went by, before she spoke. 

“As I said before, I met her in Florence nearly 20 years ago. I was twenty one at the time, just having graduated from college. I was… Walking back to my apartment that night, when a group of men cornered me…” Hannibal narrowed his eyes. 

“They… Pushed me into an alleyway… I know that they were intending to…” She shut her eyes. Hannibal knew full well what they would have done to her, and part of him wanted to kill the men for it. He had grown quite fond of her and her professional curiosity in the past few years. 

“I remember, my eyes were closed… They had me pinned to the ground… I thought they were going to do it for a moment…” She trailed off, her voice had dropped and was like sub zero ice. 

“I’m not entirely sure what happened, in that moment. Perhaps she hit the one pinning me down with a brick… He went limp. When opened my eyes, that girl… Was standing there.” A small smile crossed Bedelia’s face. 

“Now that I think about it, she’s always had a terrible sense of fashion… Absolutely terrible…” The smile faded. 

“She had knocked the leader out. Naturally, the two men with him were less than pleased. She looked at me, with a wide smile… And mouthed the word ‘run’. I didn’t know what to do. I ran. Not before I saw those men grabbing her. I thought she was dead. But the next day, she appeared at my window… Imagine my shock… I was on the 5th floor, and she knocked on the window and asked to come in.” 

Hannibal’s eyes were on fire as Bedelia spoke. He could imagine young Bedelia, cold but helpless against her attackers. 

“She told me her name was Shiki. And that she was glad I was OK. I didn’t get to ask her much about herself, she was throwing questions at me at the speed of light… I remember thanking her… Asking her if she was alright… She never answered me that question. Only asked for my name, and told me that ‘we should meet again.’ I never thought I’d see her again, let alone… Like this…” Her voice trailed off. 

“And you’re certain this is the same girl?” Hannibal asked calmly, his mind was alive with theories and thoughts, all more tantalizing than the last. 

“Positive.” Bedelia had finished scrubbing the blood off of the girl’s body. She slowly positioned the girl into a sitting position and slid the shirt over her, soon followed by the silk pants.  
With an inclination of her head, she asked quietly, “Would you?” 

Hannibal rose from his seat, walked over to the girl, and lifted her into his arms. She was light and delicate. Hannibal thought about how easily he could break her into pieces. He followed Bedelia up to her room, where she told him to put her on the bed. She covered the sleeping girl with fluffy blankets before slowly turning to Hannibal. 

“The guest bedroom is prepared. You may sleep there.” 

“And you?” 

“Hannibal, I doubt that I’ll be sleeping much tonight.” 

Hannibal’s lips twitched up into a smirk. 

“How amusing. I was just thinking the same thing. There’s still a bottle of wine downstairs that has yet to be drank. Shall we?” 

Bedelia glanced once more at the girl, before nodding and following Hannibal out of the grand room. 

It was nearly 6:00 AM when the girl began to stir. Both Bedelia and Hannibal sat on chairs in her vast room, by a lit fireplace drinking wine. A rustling sound from the bed made them both turn. The pile of fluffy blankets was moving. Slowly, the white haired girl sat up, blinking blearily in the dim light of the room. She reached her arms up into the air and stretched, letting out a small yawn. 

Hannibal noticed, with a surprise, that her eyes were not long there bloody crimson red. They had faded to a black color. The girl blew a strand of long hair out of her face before realizing Bedelia and Hannibal were looking at her. She froze. 

Bedelia spoke first. 

“I hope you’re well rested. It is nearly 6:00.” She spoke calmly, her eyes carefully taking in the state of the girl. She noted the way the girl had curled her feet up to her chest and looked at the door. There was a clear warning ‘stay away’ exuding from her. 

Hannibal ignored this fact and rose from his seat, glass of wine abandoned on the table next to him. He smiled at the girl. 

“Are you hungry? I was planning on making breakfast soon.” 

Shiki shook her head quickly, eyes flickering to the side as if almost guilty about something. 

Bedelia furrowed her brow. 

“Hannibal’s cooking is exquisite. You should partake in it, I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Hannibal smiled over at Bedelia, before turning back to Shiki, who was swinging her legs over the side of the bed. 

When her feet hit the floor, she stumbled and Hannibal reached out to steady her. She flinched away from him and instead tripped onto the floor. 

Hannibal sighed. 

She stumbled to her feet and backed away from him, eyes weary. 

Bedelia had grabbed a large, fluffy robe from her closet as this exchange went on. She held it out to the girl who suddenly realized she was in different clothes. She blushed and turned away. 

“Shiki. Take it.” Bedelia said. She knew by now that the girl practically had to be ordered to do anything, less she burst into worried hysterics. With a small hand, she latched onto the robe and put it on. She smiled for a moment at the softness, before realizing she was being watched and flinched. 

Bedelia turned and exited the room, Hannibal made sure Shiki was trailing after her before following them downstairs. In the large kitchen Bedelia motioned for Shiki to sit down on a high stool in front of the island in the middle. She did, pulling her legs up to her chest and disappearing into the fluffy cloth. Hannibal turned to face her. 

“What would you like for breakfast?” He asked the question, but his voice held no room for contradiction. She wasn’t looking at him. Bedelia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She needed more wine. 

“Eggs, I suppose. And toast. Something mild.” Hannibal mused to himself. He went about getting dishes out, putting toast into the toaster, and swinging a frying pan off of its hook above his head. 

At the same time, he questioned Shiki. 

“You were in quite a state last night. Injured, soaked with rain… Tell me, how did you come to be this way?” Silence. 

“You said that you had ‘done something bad’. Something you ‘didn’t mean to do.’ I assume that had a role to play in your ending up here.” 

Silence. 

“You found this place, knowing who lived here…” The question was soft, yet a current of threat lay in it. Perhaps Shiki noticed this, because her eyes snapped upwards. 

“I know Miss Bedelia! I’ve known her for a long time.” The answer came swiftly, and she frowned at them both before looking down. 

“If I am correct, you met her in Florence many years ago. How did you know where she was after all this time?” 

The girl’s eyes narrowed a fraction and she looked away quickly. 

“... I always remember. I’ll always know. I… I just do.” Hannibal’s lips twitched upwards. At least they were getting answers from her now, albeit vague ones. 

“I see. The action you committed last night lead you to flee her through a thunderstorm, with seemingly no regard to your own personal safety. It must have been significant.” 

A flinch. 

Bedelia spoke up.

“Shiki, you were covered in blood. You were injured.” 

No reply. 

“Your physique is incredibly young for someone who is over 20 years old.” Hannibal stated. He knew this would get a reaction. 

“Hmph.” 

He smirked. “Tell me, Miss Shiki, how old are you?” 

Defiant black eyes glared at him. “15. Why?” 

Hannibal turned back to the pan, which now had three eggs frying on it, sizzling happily. 

“And how long have you been 15, Shiki?” 

A sharp inhale was heard from Bedelia and Shiki. 

There was a long silence, in which the only sound was sizzling eggs. 

Finally, a quiet reply came. 

“A long time.”


End file.
